


Inside the Captain's Cabin

by salixbabylon



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Real Person Fiction, The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, role-playing non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-25
Updated: 2005-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salixbabylon/pseuds/salixbabylon
Summary: Pictures of Viggo/Alatriste inspire Orlando/Will to be ravished.





	Inside the Captain's Cabin

**Author's Note:**

> Another "Exchange/Offer of Services" – this one for [lostiawen](http://lostiawen.livejournal.com/), who asked for "kinky role playing - Alatriste the evil pirate and poor virginal Will."
> 
> Thank yous: To all the girls at the [**slashy_retreat**](http://slashy-retreat.livejournal.com/). Especially to [**willowwing**](http://willowwing.livejournal.com/), who betaed, and [**sileya**](http://sileya.livejournal.com/), who was my creative consultant and a last-minute beta. *smooches* And humongous bounces for [**nebulein**](http://nebulein.livejournal.com/), who made the beautiful banner! And to Cindy Lou, always.

From: mybowsbigger@yahoo.com  
To: ojosinfinitos@hotmail.com  
Subject: visiting  
Date: Thu, 21 May 2005 11:35:09

Hey Vig,

I caught some of the press about your latest publicity stunt – inspiring trousers, mate, truly. Ever since I saw them, I can't get that picture (or the ones of Alatriste) out of my head. In fact, I rather suspect I'm getting a bit daft, turning into you with your "method" madness.

I keep having this dream (well, yeah, a dream where I'm not actually asleep and my hand's on my cock) of Will and Alatriste meeting up...

Think you'd be interested in hearing more?

And maybe we can hook up for the usual hide-and-ride when you're next in LA. I'm here doing blue screens for at least a month. And if you want to get some *real* riding in, I promise to be nicer to TJ and not overtly favor Ureaus when he's around.

Sidi says hi.

You'd better write back, you random bastard, and answer my questions.

-OB

*****

From: mybowsbigger@yahoo.com  
To: ojosinfinitos@hotmail.com  
Subject: pirates  
Date: Thu, 25 May 2005 10:16:02

Vig,

So you want details? Man, I'm just getting the hang of this e-mail thing and you want me to send you smut. Well, I suppose that's what the Internet is for, yeah?

So the set-up is this: Will's a pirate. He's ditched Elizabeth (the annoying cow) and joined up with Captain Jack. Will's got a bit of a hero-worship thing there and also sort of fancies the rascal. Jack takes him on, lets him be the cabin boy, and resists all sexual tension. Poor Innocent Randy Virginal Will just bumbles along, hoping that someday his Captain will ask Will to climb his mast. ;) (That's a wink, I think. It's meant to be, anyway.)

Anyhow.

One day Evil Bad Pirates attack the Black Pearl. Some die, some get away, but Poor Innocent Randy Virginal Will is caught and taken to the brig, where he meets the Evil-but-Sexy Captain Alatriste.

Are you intrigued? I'll tell you more if you promise to come shag my socks off, you fucker. I'm getting to know my own hand far too well for my liking.

-OB

*****

From: mybowsbigger@yahoo.com  
To: ojosinfinitos@hotmail.com  
Subject: playing  
Date: Thu, 27 May 2005 12:10:53

Vig,

Five days?! Wicked! I'll be waiting for your call and the usual cloak-and-dagger routine. There's this hotel by the _Queen Mary_ with a whole Victorian-navy theme; let me know how far you'd be willing to go for ambience – I think it would be a lark.

(Aside: I don't care that it's a matador costume – I want those trousers. Not to mention the cock inside them. Really Vig, you are such an exhibitionist sometimes. Slut.)

In answer to your questions: I've written and deleted a ton of stage directions for you, but I want you to use your imagination. Poor Virginal Will, captured by Evil Pirate Alatriste. Former cabin boy in chains. Alatriste is (at least in my fantasy) a no-nonsense kind of Evil Pirate – less talking, more plundering and pillaging. So what do you think he would do with Will?

Don't write me – show me. You know what my limits are. "Red" and "yellow" are still my boring safewords - I never could come up with anything more creative, and unlike you, I never randomly yell out colors during sex.

Five days, mate. Come shiver me timbers.

-OB

*****

Will was more frightened than he'd ever been. He was in a small, dark cell, not too damp on his bare feet, surrounded by the smell of the sea. Being under the water level made him uneasy. A short while ago, before Will had totally regained consciousness, a pirate had come in and chained his wrists to the wall with heavy manacles. Then he had left, and for a long time Will was alone, in the dark, afraid of what would happen next.

These were *real* pirates, evil men, perhaps more foul than the cursed crew of the _Pearl_. Will had heard tales of them dismembering, raping, and maiming captives for sport before finally murdering them. After seeing a good portion of _Pearl's_ crew killed, Will had gotten a hard bump on the back of the head and blacked out, only to wake up here. Alone. The rest of the _Pearl_ was either dead or had escaped, and the ship itself had been blown to bits – totally outmanned and outgunned by the huge Spanish galleon. Will was the only one down here, as far as he could tell in the dark. No one answered him; there were no other sounds of breathing. No one to chide him or sympathize with him about the futility of struggling against the chains.

And now there were footsteps creaking on the deck above him. The clunk of the heel of sturdy boots. Captain's boots.

Will refused to think about Jack; either he'd made it or he hadn't. Now was not the time for either foolish hope or indulgent mourning. Later, perhaps. Right now he had to figure out how to get out of these chains and off this ship. Alive.

The footsteps halted and into the darkness came a man, his face thrown into hideous shadow by the guttering candle he carried before him. Will squinted at the light, trying to see the eyes behind the flame, to not be awed by the play of light and darkness on the mustachioed face. Not be frightened.

Will waited. He wanted to rattle his chains, demand his freedom, ask what was going to happen next, make impotent threats, but Jack had taught him that much, at least, to pause before rushing into unknown situations. The knot on his head throbbed.

The man, the captain, looked at him, holding up the candle. His face gave away nothing of his thoughts. A drop of cold sweat down his spine made Will shiver.

Finally the captain spoke, in a heavy Spanish accent, "You were Sparrow's cabin boy, _si_?"

Will nodded. Alatriste slapped him across the face. "Yes, I am his cabin boy," Will grudgingly replied.

The man grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes, "I am Captain Alatriste. Sparrow killed my cabin boy. You will be mine."

Will did not answer as Alatriste went to the wall to unhook the chains, leaving Will's wrists in the manacles.

"Upstairs," he ordered, pulling the chains like a leash with one hand, while the other went to the hilt of his sword, "I want to see what I'm getting."

Following compliantly, Will began to wonder when the "opportune moment" for resistance would come. He didn't want to rush into things; Alatriste exuded an aura of danger far more than any other pirate Will had met. He felt unusually fearful of the man.

Perhaps it was because Jack would not be coming to his rescue this time. This time, Will was truly on his own. Alone. Afraid. These pirates wouldn't hesitate to torture or maim him, just for the vicious glee of it. He had never felt so helpless, not even with Barbossa's knife at his throat.

So he followed, unresisting, up the steps, past the lower and middle decks, across and up to the quarterdeck. He ignored the jeering and laughing of the crew, made easier since it was in Spanish. He understood a few words, _boca del nino_ and _puto_ and _culo_ , but not enough to put them together.

Alatriste opened the Captain's cabin and shoved Will inside; he stumbled, almost falling before he caught the post of the bed with one hand. Alatriste wound the ends of the chains around hooks in the ceiling before Will had a chance to even think of trying to attack or escape.

Without a word, the pirate unsheathed his sword and advanced. Will struggled, despite knowing he could not get away. Alatriste circled him, leering as he deftly slashed Will's clothes to ribbons. He was a good enough swordsman to avoid wounding him, Will could tell, but cruel enough to enjoy causing the occasional scrape and scratch. One, at his hip, began to bleed.

From under the mustache, Alatriste's tongue slipped out, as if scenting the blood in the air. The captain pointed his sword at Will's genitals. Gently, but not so much that Will could stop himself from flinching back, Alatriste lifted the shaft with the flat of his blade. The pirate captain did it again, grinning as he pressed the sharp edge against Will's balls. "I wouldn't move, if I were you," he purred.

Will growled, "What *would* you do, if you were me?" before he could stop himself, although he managed to hold still.

Alatriste let the point of his blade drop, moving closer. He held Will's eyes for a moment, then backhanded him. Hard.

" _Puto_. I am the captain. You are the cabin boy. I will teach you to address me with respect." Alatriste walked around behind Will and kicked his feet out from under him. "Kneel." He smirked as Will fell.

Both the chains and Will's arms stretched painfully, and he groaned, biting his lips against his scream. His head spun with the rush of it, blood pounding through his veins, gathering in his groin, for some reason.

Alatriste moved in front of him again, coming close enough for Will to feel the heat coming from his body, to smell the spicy scent of the man. "A cabin boy," Alatriste said in a quiet, rumbling voice, "must know his place. His duty is to serve his captain when ports and whores are distant. You will serve me," as he began to unfasten his breeches.

Will tried to back away on his knees, panicking, but could not move without wrenching his arms out of the sockets. "I will not," he said, ashamed at the smallness of his voice.

Alatriste smirked. "You will," he replied as he grabbed Will by the back of the neck.

Like a stubborn child, Will pressed his lips together, trying and failing to shake off the strong hands. With a growl, Alatriste pressed the finger and thumb of his other hand into Will's jaw, forcing his teeth apart. "Open," he commanded, and pulled Will's mouth onto his cock.

Will tried to resist, struggling to breathe as the pirate guided his head fore and aft. His eyes started to sting, then water, and his resistance crumpled. He felt utterly helpless, used, overcome by the futility of struggling and the shame of failure. Alatriste held his gaze for a few thrusts, then released Will's jaw, only to move his hand meaningfully to the pistol in his belt.

Will closed his eyes. He was shaking with fear, arms pulled to the point of agony, the scratch on his hip throbbing with the pulse of blood and adrenaline. And for some reason, the more his fear grew, the more aroused his body became. He tried to dismiss it; why was he reacting like this to being forced into such a degrading act by this pirate?

His thoughts made him panic and he struggled for air, twisting and moaning and trying to pull away. Alatriste groaned, then slowed his movements, finally releasing his bruising grip on Will's neck, and shoved him away.

Will could not stop a pained yelp as his arms strained even further in their bonds. Gasping, breathless, something in Will collapsed. He was captured, hurt, humiliated. He could not get out of this. Whatever Alatriste wanted to do to him, Will was helpless against it. He was nude, bound, and a knife, sword, and pistol were all within Alatriste's grasp. But the weapon that most frightened Will was the one that had just been in his mouth; he knew the captain wasn't finished with him, and he could guess what was coming next.

Part of Will wanted to weep. This wasn't how he had planned to be introduced to pleasures of the flesh. He had hoped that Jack would one day return his awkward affections... But he could do nothing to stop Alatriste, and he could not bring himself to beg the pirate, knowing he would never find mercy.

And Will could not explain, even to himself, why his body was aroused. It must be just a reaction to danger, he thought, like he sometimes became erect during fights. Nothing more. It meant nothing; the tension and excitement flooded through his whole body, and it was just a fluke that some of it centered in his groin.

And that every time he thought about how helpless he was, how ruthless Alatriste's reputation was, how frightened Will was of what was about to happen, his cock throbbed.

"Up," Alatriste said, "Get up, _puto_. I have something else for you." He laughed, looking pointedly at Will's erection, "I gather that you will enjoy this, _maricon_."

Getting to his feet was difficult; Will felt boneless and lightheaded, drunk, insubstantial. He knew what was coming next, knew it would hurt. Hoped he would not disgrace himself by screaming or crying.

Without warning, Alatriste kicked Will's legs apart and yanked him back by the hips, so that he was awkwardly bent forward as far as the chains around his wrists would allow. A rough hand grabbed his bare buttocks, squeezing and digging in sharp fingernails.

Will hung his head as his erection throbbed in confusing response.

He was thankful for the warm, wet oil that was splashed onto his opening before he felt the firm nudge of Alatriste's cock. He braced himself, trying to remember to breathe, as he was unrelentingly impaled. Without pausing, Alatriste thrust in and out, one hand gripping Will by the hip; the other on his shoulder, pushing him down.

The initial pain subsided and Will groaned; it burned and it hurt and he felt like something was tearing apart inside his soul, leaving him mentally raw. He'd never felt so open, so aching, nor so violently excited and aroused.

With one hard shove, Alatriste pulled him back at a different angle, and something in Will's arse sent a jolt of pleasure to every nerve in his body. He gasped and cried out, knowing he sounded more wanton than wounded, but he couldn't stop it. His fear and arousal were so intertwined that he could almost not distinguish between them. They grew, twisted together, higher and higher, until all else was almost blocked out.

The pirate rode him hard, unconcerned with Will's distress, using him, putting him in his place. He was the cabin boy; he had no choice but to submit to the will of his captain. Alatriste drove in deep and Will climaxed with a scream, jerking uncontrollably against the chains, knees giving way as his world turned grey.

Distantly, Will felt Alatriste thrust in a few more times before releasing a groan of deep satisfaction, hips hitching with short pulses as he rode out his pleasure. Eventually he stopped moving and was still, holding Will's limp body close to him with both arms.

Will's world faded to black.

*****

From: mybowsbigger@yahoo.com  
To: ojosinfinitos@hotmail.com  
Subject: pounded  
Date: Thu, 5 June 2005 01:19:06

Vig,

Fucking brilliant, mate. I know I've said it a million times already, but I'm still awed. I can't even bloody think about it without getting so hard I could fuck concrete.

I had a great time, as you know, but for the whole visit, I mean. It's always brilliant to see you, even if you are a tremendous git for never wearing the matador costume "because it wasn't authentic." Oh, I know - maybe next time you can be the matador and I'll be the bull, yeah?

Man, I'm just never going to get over this. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I know how much you put into your roles, even just one night of being Nasty Sexy Pirate Alatriste, was quite a gift. You rock my world.

Let me know when you'd be free to hook up and perform some never-before-seen (and probably illegal) bull-taming maneuvers.

-OB


End file.
